


Like Father, Like Son, Like Daughter

by GoAwayOlivia



Series: ParentHood (Alternate NSO Timeline) [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Does NOT like being compared to Bruce, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jason and Bruce bonding over parenthood, Jason is a good parent, Jason worries at Bruce levels, Lisa gets sick, Or at least he's trying like hell to be a good parent and making good strides, Rest of batfamily in the background, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoAwayOlivia/pseuds/GoAwayOlivia
Summary: Dr. Thompkins smiled down at Lisa. “You look just like your daddy when he was sick at your age.”She sniffled in response but looked up at Dr. Thompkins, mildly interested.The doctor’s smile widened. “You both have the same grumpy expression, only you have better manners than your daddy did.”Jason rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.”She scoffed at him. “If I’m remembering correctly, you bit me when you were four or five.”“I did not,” he retorted, scandalized.Lisa, to his great relief, gave a little giggle.Dr. Thompkins shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re not any worse than your father is. You both are about the same actually. In fact, all three of you have the exact same grumpy expression.”Jason scowled at being compared to Bruce. “Why would that make me feel any better?!”The doctor smirked and shrugged. “Like father, like son. And like daughter too now, it seems,” she added, smirk widening at the twin grumpy looks he and Lisa shot her.***OR Lisa gets sick, Jason freaks out about it, and Bruce actually manages to help. Oh, and Jason's getting real sick of being compared to BRUCE.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Original Child Character(s)
Series: ParentHood (Alternate NSO Timeline) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/875244
Comments: 53
Kudos: 356





	Like Father, Like Son, Like Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> So this year has certainly been a tough one! 2020 has kind of kicked my ass in a lot of different areas. Grad school has also been giving me a run for my money but I can happily say I've got one year successfully down! I know I don't usually answer comments, but I just wanted to say thank you guys all so much for all the kind words I've gotten this year on my works and via tumblr, etc. It's been a tough year, but every kind word has meant so much to me and I wanted to give you guys a special treat to say thank you! So here, have some Jason as a dad fluff! I hope you are all surviving and doing well and Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy whatever holidays you celebrate!
> 
> Also want to give a shout out to chibi_nightowl who is still just the greatest beta a poor little writer could ask for. I can not stress enough how much they contribute, whether it's cleaning up my sloppy writing, adding in real world insight, or contributing perfectly placed witty one-liners. My works would not be possible without them. 
> 
> This one is set after Rapunzel's Got Nothing on Us but before Tim Drake: Vigilante Babysitter.

“Okay,” Jason said as he spread the blueprints for his loft out on the Manor’s kitchen island. Alfred set two cups of tea beside the papers and he took one gratefully.

He’d spent the last couple of weeks teaching himself about blueprints and contracting, and although there’d been a point where he’d really been fed up with the process and had almost hired someone, he now had a new working floorplan. Not to mention, after long discussions with Bill at the hardware store, he was fairly confident he would be able to pull it off.

Which was fantastic, because it had only been a couple of weeks, but he was already itching to be out of the Manor and in his and Lisa’s own space. Not that Alfred wasn’t super helpful, but Bruce was around _so much._ It made his skin crawl. And Alfred was starting to seem a little too pleased. Jason didn’t want him getting ideas about the arrangement becoming permanent.

So he was motivated to figure out the blueprints and make everything work. And with all of his many talents, Alfred was happy to serve as a sounding board for Jason’s renovation plans.

“Here’s the current floor plans of my unit and the one I’m expanding into,” he said before laying out his new blueprints, ones he’d spent way too long changing and perfecting. He’d even gotten them checked over by a structural engineer and was pretty happy with the end results.

“This dividing wall is load-bearing, so I’m just going to keep it and add doors, but overall it shouldn’t be too difficult. In the new space I need to include a bedroom and bathroom for Lisa, an additional bedroom and bathroom and a study. In the current space I need to close off my room and the laundry room then shift the current bathroom into the private master bath. The secondary bathroom will then be the guest one and accessible from the common space.”

Alfred hummed approvingly. “A guest bedroom is a very good idea, Master Jason. I’m sure your brothers will make good use of it.”

Jason huffed grumpily. “Unfortunately.” But he was thinking about the future. Eventually, when he and Lisa were back living in the loft, there’d be some sort of rotation set up for patrols and watching Lisa. Whoever was on Lisa duty would need a place to sleep that was not his bedroom. Plus, he wanted a space for Roy and Kory to stay as well when they were in town.

Alfred continued studying the blueprints carefully for a moment before turning to him with an arched brow. “I see you’ve annexed the back portion of the study. For what purposes?”

“That would be the armory,” Jason said easily. “Heavily sealed and hidden behind built-in bookcases. Can’t just leave all my guns and bombs out in the open with a kid in the house.”

“Indeed,” Alfred remarked drily before moving his finger to one of the two annexed portions of Lisa’s room. “And what of this? I’m assuming the smaller space beside it is a closet, but this has me puzzled.”

“That would be the panic room.”

“The panic room,” the old butler repeated, unimpressed.

“Yep,” Jason replied, calmly and evenly. He’d expected this sort of reaction, but he wasn’t going to change his mind. There would be a panic room in case of emergency. They had plenty of emergencies in their lives, after all, and he was going to do his best to make sure Lisa was _safe_.

Alfred gave him a considering look. “It occurs to me that, if you feel that a panic room is necessary in your home, you might consider raising Lisa at the Manor instead. It is the safest place in Gotham, after all.”

“ _Wooow_ ,” Jason shook his head, a little disbelieving. “I was wondering when I was going to get the ‘just stay forever’ speech. And here it is. Not gonna lie, Alfie, I thought you’d lay some more groundwork before going for it.”

“I feel my argument is valid, Master Jason. If you’re so concerned about Miss Elisabeth’s safety that you need to build a panic room, staying in the Manor is a better option. Surely your peace of mind would fare better.”

“It’s been a couple of weeks and Bruce is already driving me crazy,” Jason argued back. “He’s everywhere all the time, judging me and my parenting. I’ll barely last the amount of time it’ll take to finish the renovation. Plus, the panic room gives me plenty peace of mind. It stays, we stay in the loft.”

Alfred gives him an exasperated look. “He is not judging your parenting, he’s merely attempting to spend time with you and Miss Elisabeth. Besides, you can’t blame an old man for trying. It’s been a delight to have you both here, after all.”

Jason slid him a look, not believing for a second that that would be the end of it. But if the butler didn’t feel like pushing anymore for the moment, he wasn’t going to argue the point.

He turned back to the blueprints. “So two additional bedrooms, three bathrooms, the study, the panic room, the armory, and I need to close off my room and the laundry, and install all the doors. And I’ll have to replace the ceiling and insulation in the new space as well… This is going to take a while.”

“You could always contract the work,” Alfred offered, but Jason immediately made a face.

“As much as I’d like to be out of here as soon as possible, no offense, I’d rather not have anyone inside my space. I should be able to handle it. It’s just going to take more time than I’d like.”

“Well, you do have three able-bodied brothers.”

“You mean three able-bodied disasters.”

Alfred smiled. “No one said they couldn’t be both. Master Richard and Master Timothy were helpful enough in your previous renovations though while Master Damian can be taught. And your father has plenty of construction experience from his work in the cave.”

Jason recoiled at the suggestion but couldn’t deny that the man’s expertise might actually come in handy for the construction of the armory and panic room. He scowled down at the blueprints, fingers tapping impatiently on the island. He didn’t need Bruce; he could do this on his own.

“Yeah, no,” he retorted finally. “I can handle it.”

Alfred sighed but thankfully didn’t argue. “Well then, Master Jason, where do you plan on starting?”

“Lisa’s bedroom. I’ve already cleared the additions, but I need to frame and drywall, then reinsulate the spaces. Lisa’s bedroom, bathroom, and the panic room will be first in line. After that, I’ll close up my room and the laundry, then move on to the other bedroom, bathroom, and study.”

“I imagine this will keep you busy for quite some time,” the older man mused, a contemplative look on his face.

Jason’s eyes narrowed at him. “Probably, but it’s not like the loft won’t be livable for all of it. Plastic sheeting is a thing.”

“Construction dust isn’t good for young children.”

“You’re really pushy today, you know that?”

Alfred took a sip of his tea, unbothered. “I’m just an old man enjoying having his grandchild and great-grandchild home.”

“Well focus that over on some of your other grandchildren,” Jason retorts, rolling up the blueprints, but he was distracted by his phone ringing. Fishing it from his pocket, he recognized the number for Lisa’s school. Crap. “God, I hope she didn’t punch anyone else,” he groaned before he answered. “This is Jason.” 

“Mr. Hunt, this is Amy Wyatt, I’m the nurse at Lisa’s school.”

Dread shot through Jason immediately, and for a moment it felt like he couldn’t breathe. “What happened, is she alright?”

“She’s running a fever, actually. 101.5” the nurse explained, and Jason released a breath. It was just a fever. She wasn’t hurt. But she did have a fever. Why did she have a fever? “Her teacher sent her to me not too long ago. I checked her file and gave her some children’s Tylenol, but she’s complaining of a sore throat. I’d recommend taking her to a doctor. There have been a number of cases of strep throat recently, so she should be checked out.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jason said moving quickly towards the garage. “I’m on my way. Tell her I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“I will. See you soon, Mr. Hunt.”

“Is she alright?” Alfred asked, following him into the garage. He sounded much calmer than Jason felt.

“She has a fever and a sore throat,” he said, willing himself to calm down. It was just a fever. Lisa was fine. But the fear that shot through him when he realized it was the nurse that called hadn’t abated, and he felt shaken. “I’m picking her up and taking her to see Leslie.”

Alfred nodded. “Good idea. I’ll call ahead and get you both on the waiting list. I’ll also get started on some soup, as well as some smoothies.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Jason took a bracing breath and settled on the least ostentatious of the cars.

He couldn’t drive Lisa on the motorcycle while she was _sick_. It was getting chillier every day, so she really shouldn’t be on the motorcycle at all. When was the last time she was on it? Maybe that’s how she got sick. No, it had been a week, and it hadn’t been that chilly the last time. How the hell did this happen? She’d been riding her bike around the grounds the evening before. It was cool, but he’d dressed her warmly enough he thought… Maybe he hadn’t though and that’s why she was sick.

“Master Jason,” Alfred spoke up, and Jason startled at the hand on his shoulder. “It’s just a fever and a sore throat. Miss Elisabeth will be fine. Unfortunately, it is a fact of life that children do get sick from time to time.”

“Do you think it was too cold last night?” he asked, hating how freaked out he was by this.

Alfred gave him an indulgent smile. “No, I do not. I do however think that schools are a hotbed for germs and that it is flu season.”

He let out a breath. The nurse did say strep was going around too, so yeah. “Right. Right, okay.”

“Go fetch Miss Elisabeth. I’ll have everything ready for her when you return.”

Jason nodded and hurried off, fretting the whole drive to the school.

Lisa was waiting for him in the nurse’s office looking flushed and absolutely miserable when he arrived.

He hurried over and crouched down so they were at eye level. “Hey, carrot-top.”

She sniffled and her lip wobbled a little, making his chest clench. “Hey, Jay Jay.”

“Not feeling so hot, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” she says, shaking her head with a little scowl, clearly irritated about it.

“Okay, we’ll get you to Dr. Thompkins and she’ll figure out how to make you feel better,” he promised, scooping her up. “It’ll be alright. Thanks for calling me,” he added, turning to the nurse.

“Of course,” she smiled then looked at Lisa in his arms. “Feel better, sweetheart.”

Lisa nodded and clung to Jason all through the sign-out process and then all the way to the car. She fussed a little about being put in the back seat away from him, and she was very clearly unhappy for the duration of the car ride. When they reached the clinic, her unhappiness extended to being in an unfamiliar place filled with strangers who were just as miserable as her. She clung to him all the way to the counter and refused to be put down.

Jason was more than happy to hold her, of course, but her behavior reminded him uncomfortably of how she’d clung to him after he rescued her from Donald. It only made him more agitated. He clung to Lisa as much as she was clinging to him as he gave their names to the receptionist.

"Jason Hunt, yes," she smiled at them both. "Your brother called ahead with your insurance information so all I need from you is a copy of your license and insurance card.”

He blinked. “My insurance information?” He didn’t have insurance… Did he? Wouldn’t he know if he had insurance? He was pretty sure he’d remember signing up for insurance.

“Yeah, your brother already gave us the info we need for the paperwork, but we need a copy of the card and your license on file.”

“Which brother?”

She checked her notes. “Uh, he said his name was Tim.”

Well, that explained _that_. Jason shifted Lisa over enough so that he could finagle his way to his wallet, the one he now remembered Tim handing over the night when Jason Hunt became all nice and legal. Fumbling it open, he grabbed his license, and a quick perusal revealed an insurance card as well.

He grumbled under his breath as he passed both to the woman. Who the heck was paying for the insurance?

“Great, thanks,” she smiled at them. “You can go ahead and have a seat. I’ll get these back to you and Dr. Thompkins should be with you shortly.”

“Thanks,” he said giving her a stressed smile before he settled down in a chair with Lisa in his lap still clinging to him tightly.

“How you doing, carrot-top?” he asked, putting a hand to her forehead to check her temperature. She still felt warm even though she’d taken the Tylenol a half hour ago. It should have been working by now, right? Shouldn’t her fever have gone down?

Lisa made a disgruntled noise, but didn’t say anything more.

He didn’t push it, instead fishing his phone out of his pocket to text Tim.

Jason: _What the hell? I have health insurance???_

Tim: _You’re raising a child. Of course you have health insurance. You both do. You’re primary and she’s your dependent._

He’d suss out what that meant later.

Jason: _Who’s paying for it?_

Tim: _Automatic payments out of your Jason Hunt checking account. Do you even look at that?_

No, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Tim.

Jason: _You have access to my bank account?!_

Tim: _Please._

Huffing in annoyance, he shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Your Uncle Timmy is a busy body,” he grumbled to Lisa. “Grandpa B levels of busy body at that. Which I didn’t think was possible before I met Timmy.”

Lisa hummed a little but didn’t lift her head from his chest so Jason kept talking, hoping if nothing else, it would distract her from how crummy she was feeling. “They’re the worst about it, but the whole family is full of busy bodies. Uncle Wing and Aunt Steph are nosy as crap, but at least they aren’t high-handed like Uncle Timmy and Grandpa B. They want to know all of your business, but they rarely step in and do anything about it, you know? Aunt Cass and Aunt Babs also want to know all your business, but they’re way more subtle about it. You can assume they know everything, but you can’t prove it.”

She made a noise that might have been an ‘uh huh’ and Jason rubbed her back a little then admitted, “Which is at least way less annoying than all the others.”

“What about Dami?” she asked, voice quiet and scratchy.

Jason winced in sympathy even as he quietly worried. “Damian likes to know everything too, but he keeps it on the downlow because he wants you to think he doesn’t care. But you can bet that he knows and when the opportunity arises, he’ll jump to use it against you.”

She hummed.

Dr. Thompkins appeared a few moments later, and Jason straightened up as she gave them both a sympathetic smile. “Jason, Lisa, you can come on back.”

Lisa clung a little tighter as they moved towards the doctor. She’d met Doc Thompkins before, but only briefly so she wasn’t comfortable with her yet.

“I hear someone isn’t feeling too great,” Dr. Thompkins said to Lisa as she led them to an exam room. Lisa’s response was to tuck her face into Jason’s shoulder and ignore the woman.

Jason replied as they settled into a room, him in a chair with Lisa in his lap. “Her temperature at school was 101.5 and she has a sore throat. She’s taken children’s Tylenol but that’s all.”

“Okay, well let’s see what we can do about that.” She took Lisa’s temperature again along with her other vitals. The fever had only gone down to 101.2 and Jason’s jaw tightened in worry as Dr. Thompkins made a concerned hum at the sight of Lisa’s throat. “I’m going to run a flu and strep test, but my money is on strep,” she told Jason. “It’s been going around.”

He nodded stiffly, holding Lisa a little tighter.

The flu test didn’t go over well, but it had nothing on the strep test. Lisa tried to shove Leslie away as she cried while Jason felt like the scum of the earth as she sobbed even after Dr. Thompkins finally got a successful swab.

She gave Jason a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be alright. It’ll take about ten minutes to get the test results and then we’ll go from there. Don’t worry, Lisa. You’ll soon be home and snuggled comfortably in bed, and I’ll be sure to prescribe some popsicles to make you feel better.”

Lisa valiantly gave a nod through her sobs and Jason rocked her as Dr. Thompkins stepped out.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he soothed as best as he could. “I know you feel awful right now, but we’ll get you some stuff to help you feel better, okay?”

“She stuck a stick in my throat,” Lisa cried into his shirt accusingly.

“I know and it was terrible, but you did really great,” he told her. “All the hard stuff is over now. All that’s left is medicine, okay?”

She sniffled and Jason grabbed some tissues to help clean up her face. His shirt was wet with snot and tears and beyond saving. By the time Dr. Thompkins came back in, Lisa was back to the sullen silence and clinging.

“Strep,” she confirmed sympathetically.

Jason let out a breath and nodded. “Okay. Antibiotics?”

She nodded. “And a syrup to help sooth her throat. You’ll need to keep up with the Tylenol for fever and pain. You missy are going to be out of school for the rest of the week,” she smiled gently at Lisa. “So you make sure Jason waits on you hand and foot, and gives you plenty of popsicles to help you feel better. I already sent a recipe for homemade ones that aren’t drowning in sugar to Alfred,” she added to Jason.

“Thanks, Dr. Thompkins,” he told her seriously.

She nodded again then added more quietly. “Lisa’s tonsils are a little enlarged as well. It might be that they’ll need to be removed eventually, but it’s not an issue for now. Let’s get her healthy and feeling better, then we’ll discuss it.”

Jason’s fingers twitched around Lisa at the thought of her undergoing surgery. “Do you think that’s likely?”

There was no hiding the anxiety in his voice.

“Lisa’s medical files are a little incomplete, but I did see a few cases of tonsilitis from what information we do have. I think it’s a good chance that we’ll be doing something about that within the next six to twelve months. If she’s getting repeated infections or if the swollen tonsils are causing her breathing problems or sleep apnea, then we’ll talk about next steps,” she replied, making Jason panic more at the thought of Lisa having trouble breathing.

His worry must have shown on his face because Dr. Thompkins smiled at him. “It’s nothing to worry about. Kids’ tonsils are often enlarged at Lisa’s age. She might just grow into them, but if it does cause problems, that’s when we consider the tonsillectomy. It’s a very simple procedure and she’ll bounce back from it easily. Again though, that’s for later. For now, we’ll get her feeling better. This one’s the antibiotic and this one’s for her throat,” she said, passing two bottles of liquids to Jason. “Both are twice a day. We can go ahead and give her the first doses now if you want.”

Jason nodded, incredibly thankful that Dr. Thompkins clinic had an onsite pharmacy as it meant he could get Lisa home and in bed that much sooner.

He watched as Dr. Thompkins help quickly got the medicine measured into two little cups. Lisa, of course, wanted nothing to do with them. “They smell gross!” she cried, trying to hide her face in his shirt as the doctor tried to coax her out.

“They’ll make you feel better, carrot-top,” Jason cajoled.

“I don’t wanna.”

“If you hold your nose, they don’t taste so bad,” he tried. “Come on and take them, and then we can get you home and you can have a popsicle.”

She caved, but not gracefully. By the time she swallowed the second syrup, she looked ready to stage a mutiny.

Thankfully, Dr. Thompkins produced a small bottle of Gatorade to help wash the taste out of her mouth. She smiled down at Lisa as she said, “You look just like your daddy when he was sick at your age.”

Lisa sniffled but looked up at Dr. Thompkins, mildly interested.

The doctor’s smile widened. “You both have the same grumpy expression, only you have better manners than your daddy did.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.”

She scoffed at him. “If I’m remembering correctly, you bit me when you were four or five.”

“I did not,” he retorted, scandalized.

Lisa, to his great relief, gave a little giggle.

Dr. Thompkins shrugged. “Pretty sure it was you. It could have been someone else though,” she admitted. “It was a long time ago. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not any worse than your father is. You both are about the same actually. In fact, all three of you have the exact same grumpy expression.”

Jason scowled at being compared to Bruce. “Why would that make me feel any better?” he snapped.

The doctor smirked and shrugged. “Like father, like son. And like daughter too now, it seems,” she added, smirk widening at the twin grumpy looks he and Lisa shot her. “Anyway, keep me updated and Lisa, I hope you feel better soon.”

Lisa grumbled unhappily at Dr. Thompkins. Jason didn’t blame her one bit as he bundled her out of the clinic and back to the car, armed with her medicines and a note for school.

He took the time on the drive to let the school know she had strep and would be out the rest of the week. Then he called the orphanage to let them know she wouldn’t be there for her after school program for the rest of the week either. He decidedly did _not_ call Lisa’s ballet place and instead planned to text Nadine once he’d made it back to the Manor.

Lisa hadn’t yet made the connection that she’d be missing her ballet lesson that afternoon and he wasn’t going to be the one to point it out to her.

When they made it back to the Manor, Alfred had smoothies waiting for them both. The promised popsicles were in the freezer still and would be ready in a couple of hours. Lisa’s favorite soup was already burbling away on the stove for dinner.

Jason wanted to collapse in gratitude. Alfred was a rock and none of them deserved him, but he was thankful for his help all the same.

It was when they were done with their smoothies and he was getting Lisa settled in bed for a nap that things really went to hell.

“Are you going to wake me up for ballet lessons?”

He grimaced and braced himself. “Carrot-top, you can’t go to ballet when you’re sick. You need rest to feel better and you could get the other kids sick too.”

Lisa fairly _screeched_ in response. “ _Nooo!_ I wanna go to ballet!” and then she fell into hysterical sobbing with wails thrown in here and there for good measure.

“Lisa, honey,” he tried to reason with her, but she was having a full-on meltdown and wasn’t having it.

“No! You’re mean! You’re _mean_!” she sobbed, and Jason watched helplessly, anxiety a tight knot in his chest as she cried into the bed.

He knew this happened sometimes with kids, and that Lisa was feeling bad which was definitely fueling the meltdown. But despite that, for all that he and Lisa had been through together, there hadn’t been any meltdowns yet. Not to say things had been all peaches and cream every moment of the day since he adopted her, because they definitely butted heads at times, but it was nothing like this.

Lisa was still seeing Ms. Shay every couple of weeks, and Jason had even seen her a few times in order to make sure he understood her needs in a parent. He was pretty sure that the counselor would tell him that Lisa having a meltdown with him was actually a good thing—a sign that Lisa was comfortable with him and trusted him enough to be able to let loose her emotions without fear of what Jason would do in response.

But that didn’t make it any easier or less gut wrenching to watch her little body heave with sobs. He had no idea what to do, so out of desperation, he went with his instincts and ran his hand gently through her hair and down her back as she wept into her pillow.

“It’s okay, Lisa. Just let it out.”

Within a minute or two the tone of her sobs shifted, and she tried to speak, hiccupping though her sobs. “I—I’m sorry, Daddy! Don’t—don’t be mad at me!”

His chest wrenched. People had been referring to him as her dad left and right lately, and Lisa had never refuted it.

But this was the first time that she’d actually called him daddy and she sounded so heartbroken that Jason literally felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest.

“Oh hey, no,” he said quickly, scooping her up into his arms. “I’m not mad, carrot-top, I promise,” he soothed, stroking her back gently. “I know you don’t feel good and you’re upset about missing ballet. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t m-mean it,” she hiccupped, crying into his shirt. Between the two crying sessions, the thing would probably need to be burned. “You’re not—you’re not mean.”

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t,” he promised her, holding her gently. “It’s gonna be okay, Lisa. I know you don’t feel good now, but you’re going to be feeling better really soon. And next week, you’ll be ready to go back to ballet. In the meantime, I’m going to stay with you, and we’re going to watch movies and read books and eat popsicles, and it’s all going to be okay. Okay?”

She nodded into his chest and since her tears were slowing, he scooped her up and carried her over to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then I bet you could really use a nap. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” she warbled weakly.

He wet a washcloth with warm water and helped Lisa clean her face, then blow her nose before he got her tucked back into bed. She was asleep within a few minutes, and Jason pulled one of the armchairs over by the bed and sagged into it like a puppet with his strings cut. He felt utterly wrung dry. Just completely gutted and drained and like he could sleep for a week and it was only 1pm.

“Fuck,” he whispered quietly rubbing at his face, then grimacing at the state of his shirt.

He needed to shower and maybe change, but he didn’t want to leave Lisa alone. Which was silly, of course, he knew that. It was just strep. They’d caught it early and she already had meds. Her fever was down, and she’d be fine for the few minutes it would take him to clean up, but he couldn’t make himself stand.

It wasn’t long before Alfred was peeking into the room. “Everything alright, Master Jason?”

He nodded and jumped at the opportunity. “Do you mind sitting with her while I shower and change? It won’t be long.”

The look Alfred gave him could only be described as indulgent. “I’d be happy to, Master Jason, but first, may I observe how much you resemble your father right now?”

Jason made a protesting noise in the back of his throat. That was the _second_ time he’d been compared to Bruce in a very short amount of time, but he was exhausted and even he could tell how pitiful it sounded. “Alfred, I’m having a really bad day. Do you have to kick me while I’m down?”

The man had the audacity to smirk. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, Master Jason. Go get cleaned up. I’ll watch over Miss Elisabeth.”

Jason didn’t have to be told twice and beat a hasty retreat. The shower he took was positively indulgent, longer than his usual and hot as he could stand. He scrubbed at his face then got into some clean, comfy clothes before making his way back to Lisa’s room.

She was still fast asleep, and Alfred offered him up the chair with a soft, “I’ll bring you some tea.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

They _seriously_ did not deserve the man, rude comments comparing him to _Bruce_ of all people notwithstanding.

A bunch of text messages had come in while he’d been showering, but he ignored them in favor of reading up on tonsilitis and tonsillectomies. Which of course led him into a research spiral that had him bouncing his knees in agitation as he focused on potential complications. Every article he read stressed the ease of the procedure, but things could still go wrong.

And what if Lisa was having trouble breathing in her sleep? Everything he was reading said that it could negatively impact her health. Snoring was a common sign and Lisa was snoring lightly currently, but that was probably just because her nose was stuffy from crying. Or it could be because her tonsils were enlarged, and she wasn’t getting the proper rest she needed, which impacted her immune system and allowed her to get strep throat, which made her miserable and miss ballet.

“You seem concerned, Master Jason,” Alfred spoke quietly, tearing him out of his spiral as he appeared with a cup of tea. “What are you reading?”

Jason looked up at Alfred, eyebrows scrunched in worry as he accepted the tea. “Lisa might need to have her tonsils removed.”

“I see.” Alfred nodded calmly, which was mildly irritating because how could anyone be calm when he was very unsubtly losing his shit over the health of the child someone had inconceivably decided to trust in _his care_. “You should speak to your father. Master Richard had to have his tonsils removed shortly after coming to stay with us. I don’t remember much about the affair, but your father will.”

Part of Jason bristled because, though he didn’t have any proof, he felt like he was being patronized. That slight indulgent hint to Alfred’s expression hadn’t left and he felt very much like he was being humored, despite the man’s solemn tone. His kid was sick. He was allowed to freak out about it.

He shot the older man a suspicious look, but he was too tired to confront him about it so instead he said, “Thanks for the tea,” and went back to his articles.

Alfred left him to it.

After another ten minutes, Jason felt like he knew all that he could know about tonsillectomies without diving into some academic studies in medical journals, which he was rather tempted to do. He decided to put that on hold though and switched to the text messages, while keeping an eye and ear on Lisa to make sure she was breathing as well as she was able and sleeping peacefully.

He was unamused to find all the text messages were in the family group chat and they were all about _him_.

Steph: _I just heard about Baby Hood. News?_

Tim: _It’s strep. She’s got an antibiotic and will be out of school for the rest of the week, but she’ll be fine_. 

Dick: _Ice cream! I’ll bring some over tonight._

Steph: _Good idea. How’s Jason taking it? Bet he’s running around like a chicken with his head cut off!_

Jason glared, offended at Steph’s long line of laughing emojis.

Cass: _hes in the group lets ask him_

Dick: _No need. You know he’s a wreck._ And again, another laughing emoji.

Steph: _What I wouldn’t give to watch!_

He scowled at the phone and strongly considered smashing it across the room. He fucking _hated_ having siblings. He was _worried_ , sue him. Hell, he couldn’t figure out why he was the only fucking one who was! Lisa was _sick_. Sure, strep was common and not particularly dangerous, but just because that was the case the majority of the time, didn’t mean it was the case _all the time_. Lisa could be in danger. Something could happen. He was supposed to protect her, and she was _sick_.

Tim: _According to my source, it’s hard to tell who’s clingier, Jason or Lisa._

His grip tightened on the phone. Someone was a traitor, Leslie or Alfred. Unfortunately, he very much needed both of them so he couldn’t even seek retribution.

When Steph sent in more laughing emojis and made a comment about how she couldn’t believe _Dad Hood_ was the scourge of the underworld, Jason growled and switched off his phone. Fuck them. He had a kid to keep an eye on.

He made a note of when he would need to wake her for more Tylenol, but for the moment, he let her sleep. All the crying had likely exhausted her as much as the infection did, and she needed it.

Time dragged on as she continued to sleep and Jason settled back in the chair, letting his eyes close so he could at least rest a little.

Eventually, the door opened once more. Jason expected it to be Alfred again, but was surprised to find it was Bruce.

“You’re home early,” he whispered, tone accusatory. The last thing he needed was the man there to judge his parenting skills and point out all the ways he’d fallen short in allowing his kid to get sick.

“I heard about Lisa. I wanted to come check on you both,” he replied, equally quiet. And to Jason’s dismay he grabbed the other chair and pulled it over beside his, clearly intending to stay a while. “How’s she doing?”

“Fever’s down,” Jason retorted tersely. “She gets another dose of Tylenol in about forty-five minutes. She’s on an antibiotic and she’s also got medicine for her throat.”

“That’s good.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Jason’s knees bouncing with his agitation, feeling like he was being graded and hating how unsure he felt about his score.

The silence eventually got to him to the point that he opened his mouth, and to his immense frustration, immediately confessed, “Her tonsils are enlarged. Dr. Thompkins said she might have to have them removed.”

Bruce nodded solemnly. “Dick had to have that done. He had four throat infections in the first year he was with us.”

Something about the confession eases Jason’s nerves a little bit. Dick had also gotten sick so Bruce couldn’t judge him for Lisa being sick when she’s only been sick the once. With his nerves somewhat settled, it was easier to see Bruce more as a source of information and less like a judge who might deem him unworthy of raising a child.

“It went fine. It’s a straightforward procedure and Dick’s recovery was standard. Although I’m pretty sure that’s where his addiction to ice cream started. It’s all he would eat for days after the surgery.”

Jason nodded stiffly. It wasn’t anything different than what he’d read, but it didn’t really ease his worries.

They fell into silence once more and this time it dragged on for several long minutes, Jason stewing in his worry and frustration.

Bruce was the one to break it. “How’re you doing, Jason?”

Jason surprised himself with his honesty. “I’m a fucking mess, Bruce,” he admitted quietly, but with feeling. “She’s sleeping right in front of me, and I know she’s fine, and realistically I know she’s going to be fine, but all I can think about is what if she’s not? What if something happens? What if I let something happen? God, Bruce, how do people do this? I’m a fucking wreck,” he hisses the last part.

When Bruce gave him a knowing look, it was somehow completely different than Alfred’s. Where he’d felt humored and indulged by Alfred and Leslie and teased by his siblings, Bruce was somehow able to convey understanding. He didn’t particularly like it—feeling understood by Bruce of all people, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to be choosy, so just this once he’d take what he could get.

“Jason, you’re twenty-one years old, sleep-deprived, and raising a seven-year-old. Of course, you’re a wreck. That girl has become your world and for the first time since she’s been in your care, she’s sick. You’re supposed to be a mess. You’re not supposed to have it all together. There will be a point, sometime in a few years, where she gets the flu and it’s no longer terrifying, but that comes with experience. This? The feeling of terror that’s made a home in your chest? That’s just part of the journey.”

Jason groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. This was the Bruce he remembered from before he died—the one who’d sometimes known the exact right thing to say. It’s somehow both comforting and unsettling to see it now. “God. How do people do this?”

“One day at a time. And cut yourself some slack, Jason, you’re already doing a fantastic job. You’re an excellent father. Much better than I ever was.”

Something loosened inside of him, just a hair. He still couldn’t stand it, how much Bruce’s opinion seemed to matter to him, but he couldn’t deny that it did.

“I’m about five minutes away from reading every article in every medical journal ever published on tonsillectomies,” he admitted, a wry quirk to his lips.

Bruce let out a rare smile as he replied, “The first time Dick was sick, I stuck heart and oxygen monitors on him while he was sleeping.”

Jason snickered quietly, surprised by the admission. “Yeah?”

The older man nodded. “Even though I was sitting in his room watching him sleep. I still wanted the monitors.”

“I haven’t quite gotten that bad. Maybe if they were lying around though,” he says with a shrug. He probably wouldn’t because he didn’t think Lisa would like it much, but he couldn’t deny it was tempting.

“I also flew in the top surgeon in the country to perform his tonsillectomy.”

Jason huffed a quiet laugh, thinking of Alfred’s words from earlier—his claim that he didn’t really remember the whole tonsillectomy affair. Bullshit if he ever heard it. A ploy to get him talking to Bruce, more like. “Did Alfred do the whole humoring thing with you too?”

Bruce gave his own quiet laugh. “Yes. Irritating, isn’t it?”

“ _So_ irritating.”

“She’s going to be okay, Jason,” Bruce said after another moment of silence. “And so are you. I know it’s terrifying right now, but it gets easier. And if she does end up needing a tonsillectomy, if you’ll let me, I’ll fly in the top surgeon in the country for her too.”

His chest went a little warm at Bruce’s words and he nodded. “Thanks, Bruce.”

It felt like the world was upside down because for the first time since he died, he actually felt somewhat comfortable sitting next to Bruce. And in a completely unexpected turn of events, he was the only member of the family Jason was not currently irritated with.

And because the world was upside down and Bruce had actually managed to ease some of his worries, he quietly offered, “She called me daddy today. She’s never done that before. Not to me anyway.”

Bruce’s grin was small but real—something Jason had only seen a handful of times in his life, but it had the rest of the tension easing out of his limbs as he leaned over and squeezed his shoulder in reply.

“When did you get so good at this? You used to suck at the whole dad thing but now you’re all… _mellow_. And _wise_. It’s freaking me out,” Jason demanded in a whisper.

Bruce shrugged. “I’m a grandfather now. I’m allowed to be mellow and wise.”

“Well… I like this better than you sucking at least. Even if it’s weird as shit and the fact that we’re getting along is freaking me out too.”

“I like this better too.”

Lisa started stirring before Jason could retort, so he stood up and went over to check on her. Her eyes fluttered open as he felt her forehead. “Daddy?”

He melted just a little. Or a lot, but the only witness there to see it was Bruce and he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“Hey princess, how’re you feeling?” he asked gently, scooping her up and settling on the bed with her in his arms.

“Like shit,” she grumbled petulantly, causing Jason to snicker in surprise and amusement.

“Apparently, because you said one of daddy’s bad words.”

“Because it’s true,” she whined.

“Well in that case, just this once you get to say it, but next time, you get in trouble and lose tablet privileges for a couple of days, okay?”

“ _Okay_ ,” she said, heaving a gusty sigh.

Jason grinned a little because he could tell by her attitude that she was feeling a bit better already. “In a few minutes, you get to take more Tylenol. In the meantime, why don’t we see if Grandpa B will go get us some of Alfred’s popsicles?”

Lisa shifted in Jason’s hold so she could turn over and look at Bruce. “Hey, Grandpa B,” she said, looking and sounding utterly pitiful.

Bruce kept his expression solemn as the grave, but Jason could see the fond amusement in his eyes. “Hello, Lisa. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

“It sucks,” she complained. “And I had to miss _ballet_.”

“I’m extra sorry about that. Maybe once you’re feeling better, Aunt Cass can take you to watch one of her classes.”

Lisa perked up immediately at the prospect of watching some of the older ballet dancers. “Can I, Dad?” she twisted around, looking up at him with big, desperate eyes.

“As long as it’s okay with Aunt Cass, and you promise to sit quietly and not disturb the class,” Jason answered with a shrug.

She wiggled in excitement before settling back down and pasting another pitiful look on her face. “Grandpa B, can we have popsicles?”

Bruce smiled, his amusement no longer hidden. “Of course. Would you also like to watch a movie?”

She contemplated this for a moment. “Can it be Moana?” At Bruce’s nod, Lisa turned to look back up at Jason. “Dad, can Grandpa B eat popsicles and watch Moana with us?”

Bruce looked a little surprised by her request and Jason was feeling unusually charitable towards the other man for the moment. “Yeah, I guess Grandpa B can hang out with the cool kids today.”

She turned back to Bruce. “Will you?”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Bruce answered solemnly. He then looked at Jason. “I’ll get the popsicles if you set up the movie.”

“On it,” Jason replied, shifting Lisa into the middle of the bed.

Bruce reappeared with three home made popsicles right as Jason got the movie ready. They settled on either side of the bed with Lisa snuggled between them with her treat.

“Have you watched this one yet?” Jason asked Bruce over Lisa’s head. At the man’s headshake, he replied wryly, “It’s good, but it’s Lisa’s favorite, so before the year’s out, you’ll probably see it at least thirty times and then you’ll also end up on patrol singing ‘ _You’re Welcome’_ under your breath every other night.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Bruce replied, expression a little too earnest so that Jason had to duck his head away from it. So maybe Alfred was right and Bruce really did just want to spend time with them. Like hell he'd admit it though. The older man was too smug already.

“Shh, Dad, it’s starting,” Lisa whispered, patting Jason’s leg frantically.

“Because you haven’t seen it a hundred times,” Jason retorted, rolling his eyes.

“ _Daaaad.”_

“Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet.”

Mollified, Lisa’s attention returned to the movie and Jason settled back against the pillows, helping her snuggle closer. Beside them Bruce settled in as well.

As the opening scene played, Jason decided that they might actually survive Lisa being sick after all. Yes, part of him still felt a little terrified, but it was like Bruce said—it was just part of the journey.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, carrot-top?”

“I want to be Moana for Halloween. And you can be Maui.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Lisa’s head. “We’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> To any of those wondering about Damian, he's currently in his "too cool for school" phase where he wants the rest of the family to think he's above all of their ridiculous shenanigans so he rarely contributes to the group text. HOWEVER, he absolutely does read every single text because he maybe above them, but he does need to stay informed. All that to say he comes home from school that day and insists Lisa watch 101 Dalmatians with him because it is a superior Disney movie ;)


End file.
